Teslin

Teslin means ‘Long Narrow Water’ in the Tlingit language. It is a tiny village that contrasts sharply with Watson Lake, hinting at prosperity and pride. Homes are generally neat, constructed of natural logs or of clapboard painted brown. The natural setting defies description, with snowy rocky mountains, pine covered hills, and ice-covered lakes everywhere you look. Teslin boasts a couple of museums, a heritage centre, a post office, a community rec centre, an RCMP detachment, a clinic, and a general store that sells all manner of groceries at very reasonable prices.

The only museum open today was the wildlife gallery here at the Yukon Motel. Entrance is free, with donations being welcome. I was impressed by the quality of the exhibits, showing mounted animals indigenous to the Yukon. All animals died of natural circumstances, of course, including one beaver who drowned when it fell through some thin ice while trying to cross Lake Laberge one spring.

grizzly bear

grizzly bear

moose and wolves

moose and wolves

in front of the moose and wolf display; what a poetic way to express the natural balance of the universe

in front of the moose and wolf display; what a poetic way to express the natural balance of the universe

I then set off on my bike to explore Teslin’s streets. I found several placards explaining the history of this place. In Dawson Creek, you get the American version of the Alaska Highway building story. In Watson Lake, you get the Canadian side. And in Teslin, you get the final piece of the puzzle, the First Nations’ story.

Until the building of the Alaska Highway, the Tlingit, and other First Nations in the Yukon, still lived with the rhythm of the land. Teslin was a meeting place for trade, but not a permanent settlement. When the Alcan roared through, the nearby community of Johnston Town eventually emptied as residents sought the amenities that came with the great by-way–schools, jobs, health services. The soldiers who blazed the trail of ’42 also brought with them diseases against which the Tlingit had no immunity. A way of life was slowly wiped out as the local economy moved passed fur trading, trapping, and hunting. It would be naΓ―ve to say that the building of the Alaska Highway was entirely a good thing. Some First Nations paid for this thoroughfare with their very heritage.

It is also important to note that unlike the impression given in the American and Canadian stories, the soldiers who built the first tote road through the wilderness did not do so on their own. Rather, they employed native guides for whom this wild land was home.

all street signs are wooden and painted

all street signs are wooden and painted

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Sign Post Forest and Wye Lake

I drove into Watson Lake this afternoon to take a gander at the town, especially the famed Sign Post Forest:

A tiny sample of the more than 65,000 signs in Sign Post Forest

A tiny sample of the more than 65,000 signs in Sign Post Forest

The Sign Post Forest was started by a homesick GI building the Alaska highway in ’42:

The original sign post (reconstructed)

The original sign post

What struck me as I walked through the forest was from how far some of these signs had been hauled, including all over Europe and the Americas:

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In case that's not clear, these folks drove from Guatemala (C.A.=Central America) to Alaska. WOW!

In case that’s not clear, these folks drove from Guatemala (C.A.=Central America) to Alaska. WOW!

Or not hauled, but the people still came from across the sea (and were quite creative):

A Sterilite container lid marked up by a family from Holland

A Sterilite container lid marked up by a family from Holland

I was also surprised to discover that I couldn’t stare at one section without seeing a sign that reminded me of a place I’ve lived or visited:

Mt. Baldy is the ski hill near Oliver and the first time I set foot in Virginia was to visit Arlington.

Mt. Baldy is the ski hill near Oliver and the first time I set foot in Virginia was to visit Arlington.

Fond memories of camping at Lake George (upstate New York) with my family

Fond memories of camping at Lake George (upstate New York) with my family

I lived near Bobcaygeon for nine months and enjoyed showing my dad the sights in this quaint village.

I lived near Bobcaygeon for nine months and enjoyed showing my dad the sights in this quaint village.

Menomonee Falls was one of my many stops on the Great Road Trip of '05

Menomonee Falls was one of my many stops on the Great Road Trip of ’05

Nepean (green sign, bottom right above the yellow) is home of the Ottawa Municipal Campground, from whence I set off my RVing journey

Nepean (green sign, bottom right above the yellow) is home of the Ottawa Municipal Campground, from whence I set off my RVing journey

Trying to remember what brought me to Wiarton all those years ago

Trying to remember what brought me to Wiarton all those years ago

I stopped in Black Diamond when I was touring Kanaskis Country in September '08

I stopped in Black Diamond when I was touring Kanaskis Country in September ’08

There were several more that stuck out at me, and this was just from random browsing without doing any in depth scanning. Visiting Sign Post Forest was a real trip down memory lane!

The Watson Lake Visitor Info Centre is located in the heart of the Forest. Staff is very friendly and helpful. I was surprised that they were open so late on a Sunday! There is a small gallery there about the building of the Alaska highway as well as a movie. Unlike the similar exhibits in Dawson Creek, these were Canadian-centric. I was surprised to learn that the U.S. did not wait for Canadian approval to start work on the highway. So, the Americans really did literally invade Canada! Thankfully, we’re pretty laid back… or Prime Minster Mackenzie King knew we couldn’t afford to go to war against the U.S., again, for invading us, again (even though we kicked their butts last time, but that’s another story altogether–Google the War of 1812).

I took a picture of this sign because find the sentiment to be so true:

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You don’t miss comforts if you’re long enough without them.

It was getting on dinner time by this point and I had a twenty minute drive back home, so I just stopped quickly to check out Wye Lake. It’s time to point out here that you don’t actually see Watson Lake from the town, only Wye Lake! As for Wye Lake it was named because it occurs in the centre of the ‘Y’ in the roads around it.

Wye Lake

Wye Lake

The other main tourist attraction in Watson Lake is a planetarium called the Northern Lights Centre, but it won’t be open until at least Tuesday, so I’m not sure I’ll get to see it this time around. The rest of what’s to be done in the area involves being out in nature: hiking, hunting, boating, fishing, that sort of thing. Watson Lake is a full service community with a few restaurants, a bank (CIBC, yay!), a grocery store, a few gas stations, ample choice in accomodation, a good hospital, an RCMP station, etc.

While at the Visitor’s Centre, I met some gals on a long weekend road trip. When I got home, I decided to have dinner at the lodge and as I was eating the gals traipsed in in search of good grub. They asked me to join them and we had a blast talking about my travels. That’s one nice thing about being a solo traveler; you get to meet so many wonderful people!

With dinner, I continued to discover the local brews, finding the most perfect beer ever: Midnight Sun Espresso Ale by the Yukon Brewing Company. Beer and coffee together in one beverage. Perfection. πŸ˜€

Thankfully, it’s getting warmer!

First Enjoyable Bike Ride

It’s a long weekend here in British Columbia, so I suspected that Canadian Tire would have a major sale on outdoorsy stuff. I therefore waited to purchase my missing kayak and bicycle accessories.

The Canadian Tire in Dawson Creek didn’t have everything I wanted in stock, but I was very happy with what they did have, being able to finish kitting out my bike at rock bottom prices. As for the kayak, I scored a life vest at a great price, but I’m still up the creek without a paddle! I’ll try the one in Fort St John tomorrow and if that doesn’t pan out (ooh, nice pun considering the road I’m on!) there’s always the one in Whitehorse where I could have the paddle I want brought in for me.

For the bike, what I needed most was a good pump. The few times I’d been out, the riding wasn’t enjoyable because of underinflated tires. I had a pump, but it was crap! This time, I got a really good pump, with a pressure gauge, for 60% off. The other item I got is very self-indulgent: a silicon seat cover!

I got home and decided to try out my bike on the Dawson Trail. Getting it out of the trunk was easier than I’d expected and getting the front wheel back on only took moments. The reverse was equally easy. Now that I know this, I won’t hesitate to take the bike out on those nights when I’m urban dry camping and want to explore.

The tires pumped and the gears lubricated, I set off for a short ride that turned out to be very enjoyable! What a difference properly inflated tires make! I am absolutely in love with this bicycle. It handles like a mountain bike but is lightweight like a racing model; the best of both worlds! I had no problem navigating gravel and potholes.

Here are some more pictures of the Dawson Trail:

Rotary Lake; Dawson Creek's manmade lake and popular swimming hole

Rotary Lake; Dawson Creek’s manmade lake and popular swimming hole

This charred area still has a very strong burn smell

This charred area still has a very strong burn smell

This sort of sky is apparently very common in Dawson Creek; the weather changes quickly and for short periods.

This sort of sky is apparently very common in Dawson Creek; the weather changes quickly and for short periods.

Mile 0

Like Moosejaw, Dawson Creek is a faded old town milking its heyday for all its worth. Even though it sits at Mile 0 of the Alaska highway, it is not the place to place to stock up on supplies and enjoy one last taste of civilization. Locals recommend heading about 75km up the Alaska Highway to Fort St-John, a larger community. It is still a ‘must stop at location’ for history buffs or if only to catch a glimpse of the famed Mile 0 markers:

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The town is quiet and sleepy. Some folks, like the managers of the Mile 0 RV Park where I’m staying seem jaded to all the folks who come and go while others, like the gals at the tourist info centre or the wonderful manager of Read’s Books, recognize that giddy tourists like me are not only the lifeblood of this town, but also the source of memorable stories.

The city, like Dawson City in the Yukon, is named for George Mercer Dawson, a Canadian scientist and surveyor.

George Mercer Dawson, from one of Dawson Creek's many murals

George Mercer Dawson, from one of Dawson Creek’s many murals

Dawson Creek was originally a farming community, but soon became a railroad hub until it was invaded by American troops in the dead of winter of 1942. That invasion will be described in further detail in my next post, but to show that I’m not exaggerating:

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Most of the town being shut tight on Sundays, I only did a walking tour yesterday afternoon. It was disappointing and I quickly gave up. Most of the landmarks on the tour have been destroyed and I got tired of markers saying that ‘such and such was located here in Dawson Creek’s hey day.’

I then went home, refilled my Nalgene water bottle, and set off to walk part of a trail that starts about a block from the RV park and which goes straight through town. Some stretches were quite desolate while others had me going through shanty towns.

Dawson Trail

This morning, I visited the railroad museum that gives a bit of general history of Dawson Creek.

Dawson Creek Visitors' Centre and Museum

Dawson Creek Visitors’ Centre and Museum

This exhibit gave me pause. It makes note of the ‘old-style’ Canadian money:

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Old-style?! Heck, I remember how unimpressed I was when these ‘old fives’ were replaced by the blah new version, as well as the kerfuffle when the dollar bill was replaced by the loonie! The former was only about ten years ago and the latter about twenty years ago (already!!!). It’s a bit shocking to be thirty and to see familiar things become antiques! πŸ˜€

The rest of what I did and saw belongs in the next post, so keep reading! πŸ™‚

Out and About In and Near Prince George

Prince George, located at the confluence of the Fraser and Nechako rivers, is called BC’s Northern Capital. It is a beacon of civilization in a vast and empty land of black spruce and open blue sky set against snow-capped mountains. Prince George’s primary industry is lumber, followed closely by tourism.

Yesterday had me move from the Bee Lazy Park to my friend’s place of work (10km north of the RV park) where I parked Miranda for the day while I went exploring for a few hours.

There wasn’t much ‘touristy’ stuff that interested me. The town is renown for its railroad museum, but I was feeling very ‘meh’ about that, so the only museum I did yesterday was The Exploration Place. This small museum is a hodgepodge of mostly hands on exhibits. It didn’t take long to tour, but is still worth a visit. I paid for the ‘deluxe’ entrance that included a simulator ride. Having ridden one in Las Vegas that had me racing down the Strip in an Enterprise shuttle with Klingons firing full phasers at us and another that had me assimilated by the Borg (I’m Geek!Girl and proud of it! πŸ˜€ ), I didn’t have very high expectations for a small town, small museum sim ride, so I was very pleasantly surprised by the fun, ten minute ‘under water’ ride.

stained glass windows at The Exploration Place

stained glass windows at The Exploration Place (blurry because of no flash)

I turned from the stained glass to find these guys! Yes, I jumped!

I turned from the stained glass to find these guys! Yes, I jumped!

I then stopped to watch a movie that was straight out of my childhood. I’m fairly confident that it was my first viewing of it that gave me the bug for the north:

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There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Nechako River

Nechako River

I spent most of the afternoon at home (in a parking lot; love this life!) watching a movie before following him out to his spread, about 25km from town. It was a rather dizzying drive here (so much so that I asked for help back to civilization this morning!), but it was so worth it! I was especially grateful for the offer of cold beer once I was squared away. πŸ™‚

Today, I decided that some hiking was in order, so I set off along the desolate Yellowhead highway, heading east back towards Edmonton, to visit the only inland rainforest in the world.

The views were, well:

Yellowhead Highway heading east towards McBride

Yellowhead Highway heading east towards McBride

Unfortunately, the trip was for naught; I should have brought my snowshoes!

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The trip wasn’t a waste, though. The drive really gave me a taste of what I’m going to encounter soon enough; endless stretches of monotonous solitude broken by fantastic scenery.

One final thing to say: it’s only May and I’m only in Prince George, so I know that I need to make some serious window covering preparations for the 21 hours of daylight that the Yukon gets in June. It felt like high noon at 6PM tonight and things are only going to get worse! Or better, I suppose, if you can sleep when it’s bright daylight out… πŸ™‚